A/N: Hey everyone! Sorry for taking so long to update. I'll be honest and say that I lost quite a bit of steam for this story. But here is the update! I hope you enjoy!

Clegane hastened, running through the halls as he overheard calls to wake the dragons.

Whoever was attacking Dragonstone, Clegane had no doubt their only intention was to send a message rather than to win in anything. Anyone attacking a castle with dragons knew that.

It wasn't the attackers he was worried about. He was concerned that it might reach Lana.

Adrenaline numbed his sore body, racing up the stairs and skipping two with each step. Then the vibration of something large slamming into the castle shook him. He growled as he placed a steadying hand on the wall. If they fucking hit her room...

When he rounded the corner, her hall was still intact, and he wasted no time as he rammed his shoulder into her door, bursting it open with the wood smacking against the wall, nearly breaking off the hinges. "Let's go!" he shouted, entering the room. The ocean was in view through her windows.

They needed to get away from the seaside.

Where are the fucking dragons?

Lana's clean, prim face was full of panic, although she didn't question him and immediately abandoned her bed, wearing nothing but her lady's sleeping gown, her pale blonde hair loose. She nearly went to grab some things as she passed them, but he shouted at her, "NOW!"

She ran towards him. He grabbed her by the back of the neck and guided her through the hall.

"The fuck is going on?" she asked.

"Trebuchets. If I had to guess, Cersei is pissed, and sacrificed those men to attack your sister."

They passed a handmaiden. "Fetch her proper fucking robes," Clegane commanded, to which the woman nodded her head and hurried, her hair falling out as she ran.

As if on cue, the sound of rock being absolutely demolished shook them so hard that Lana had to grab him for balance. He turned around, sweat beading down every part of his body.

It went clean through Lana's room.

He looked down to her and her eyes were wide, knowing what she just narrowly missed. No doubt the handmaiden was among the fresh ruble, dust filling the air as pieces of drapery were strewn about.

"Let's go. We need to get interior," Clegane said, and they continued to move. Luckily, Lana was a woman who had been around chaos and didn't seem besmirched by fear. Made his job a whole lot fucking easier.

They came upon an area that was pure rubble, and Lana, without complaint, walked through, wincing on the sharp rocks.

Sandor reached under her, draping her legs over his arm and grabbed her waist with his other, carrying her through.

It was absurd, but he was more energized than before. The area smelled of rock, dust, and the oils on her skin. A solider like Sandor lived for this kind of adrenaline rush. He lived for the innocents that he could protect, for the pride in knowing he was more skilled than his enemies.

It was always a wasted desire, as so many people in this world were ungrateful cunts that didn't deserve an ounce of his ability.

But she did, and he'd see her through this.

They reached a clean area and he put her down, although he still placed a protective hand on the back of her neck and guided her. His mind faded in and out of wanting to glance down at her, the nightdress leaving her body completely free and exposed underneath, her breasts unrestrained, and yet his drive to get her to a safety triumphed over all.

They finally reached the gardens, and he stopped there.

The sound of one of the dragons screeching was heard overhead. "Fucking finally, they get those flaming fuckers out."

Lana breathed heavily, glancing around. She had almost died.

She had almost died.

If Cersei really attacked them, then that bitch almost killed Lana.

So many questions ran through her mind, along with double the amount of concern, but all she saw as she looked up was the stubbled face of Sandor Clegane, sweat beading down his face. His quick thinking and action saved her life.

"How did you know? I should have died just now," Lana said.

"Saw the ships. I grew up with Lannisters. I don't trust any of those cunts to think logically or with caution. Except for Tyrion, unless there is a whore around."

She wanted to kiss him for what he did, but he was too tall to make it work without it looking ridiculous.

"Well, I feel I owe you something. What does a lady do when someone saves her?"

He scoffed. "Make them a knight, but if you knight me, I'll slap you."

She laughed and felt her breasts gently bounce, then her cheeks warmed, and she placed her arms over them. "I am so - this is not how a lady is supposed to look!" she exclaimed, aware at how wrong this was.

It was amazing to Lana how quickly she got used to behaving in a particular manner.

Clegane darkly said, "Noticed that."

She half-smiled, her mouth agape, and Clegane's eyes dropped to look her over, the stoic face of a warrior breaking, just ever so, to let out his desire.

Men came around the corner, and Clegane's hand was immediately on the back of her neck, pulling her into the cold metal of his armor.

"There you are!" Tyrion cried out, looking her over. "You're barely clothed."

"And barely alive. We had no time to waste," Lana said, eyeing the group. Varys was among them.

A servant with fabric in their arms came near, holding the cloth out. Clegane took a step out, grabbed it, then turned his back to the crowd and helped it over Lana's shoulders. She noticed his eyes fall to her breasts, and yet he refrained from any comment.

It was one of the things she liked most about him. He was an ass, and even though he hated the order of men who took oaths, he knew when to behave like a true knight.

"What happened?" Lana asked.

"A small part of Euron's fleet decided to hurl giant boulders at us," Tyrion said.

"Why is the castle built within distance of something like that?" Lana asked.

"My guess?" Varys remarked. "The same reason the fleet is no longer attacking us. The dragons set fire to them, and I assume when Dragonstone was built, no one dared to think it would be attacked, as they had dragons then too."

"Why'd they do it all, then? They know Dany is here."

"We are scourging the seas to see if anyone surviving will be able to answer, " Tryion chimed in. "They sent a small number compared to what they have. It was just a punch to the face. They meant to do damage, to unnerve. It wasn't meant to deal real harm."

"But it could have," Clegane snapped, his hand still on the back of her neck. "Boulder went right through her room. If you want her as a damned lady of this place, might want to start treating her like one."

Varys showed a rare face of defeat. "That was a bad judgement. We are, of course, happy you are safe, Lady Lana."

"Where is my sister?" Lana asked.

"Probably returning at some point, once she burns their ships down."

"We should hold a meeting, discuss what happened, and what we will do in response," Lana said, trying to sound like a lady. That's what they would do, right?

"We need to see if your clothes are elsewhere as well," Tyrion said.

She nodded, and with that, she parted to find some real clothes to wear.

A few casualties were had, including the maid that went back to Lana's room. No one of importance was hurt, although it unnerved Lana how close she was to being one of them.

They had also learned the reasoning for the attack.

The Sand Snakes poisoned Myrcella with a slow-acting reagent, and after a few weeks with her mother, Myrcella had died at dinner.

So, Cersei sent a fleet to just lob rocks at them for as long as they could. It was just as Tyrion said.
"Did anyone tell the Dornish to poison the Lannister girl?" Dany asked. They were all seated in the Chamber of the Painted Table, huddled in layers of clothes as a terribly cold child blew in from the ocean. Servants stood by the fire to keep it rumbling hot.

"Not that we know of," Varys said.

"That was a poor decision by the Sand Snakes. Their tactics were as bad as Cersei's. Killing an innocent girl would never have solved anything," Tyrion said, his body rigid with disproval.

"Are you upset that one of our enemies died?" Jorah asked, referencing Myrcella.

"Myrcella was a good girl. Fuck politics, she was innocent. She was one of the few things my sister ever got right," Tyrion said, not withholding his emotions this time.

Dany took a step forward, head held high as she stood at the end of the table. "I need to take King's Landing while Dorne is open like this. Otherwise, they could go to Cersei. She cannot get away with lobbing stones at my family's castle while I have three dragons."

"This could be exactly what she wants. She could use it to make you look reactionary," Varys warned.

Lana stepped in. "With all due respect, Lord Varys, war tends to be reactionary. What is the point of being a great house if you let another lob giant stones at you?"

"The girl is right," Olenna said. "Cersei attacked a dragon. A dragon that does not bite, nor breathes fire, is nothing more than a garden lizard."

"And how would we do it? Just burn down the Red Keep? Hope that Cersei is sleeping soundly somewhere and the rubble takes her with it?" Varys asked.

"Nearly worked for me," Lana quipped, clenching her fist.

"There are backways into the city," Tyrion said. "We can send unsullied to find Cersei. We might not even need dragon fire."

"What if Cersei gets word of it? There are still caches of wildfire all over from our father. Who is to say she won't burn it to the ground?" Lana asked, thinking to what Clegane said. Everyone's eyes were on her at that statement, even Jon Snow's, who remained silent.

"She does have a point. With her children dead," Tyrion said, some pain in his eyes. "She won't care what happens to King's Landing. She won't care what happens to this world." He laughed. "I honestly never thought about it, but there is a chance that even if we take it through good old-fashioned warfare, she might just blow it all up."

"Jon Snow, you are quiet. What do you think?" Dany asked.

He repositioned himself, the sound of his leathers filling in the awkward silence as their eyes were now on him. "I don't think I have a good opinion on any of this, your grace."

"And why not? You took up the title of king. This should be an easy decision for a king."

He looked around before saying, "With all due respect, if it's so easy, then why haven't you made the decision?"

Dany was flustered. "Because how I take King's Landing will impact everything."

Snow continued, "I am still of the belief that the war over the iron throne is wasting our time, so I have a hard time caring about it."

Lady Olenna stood. "Well, I have said my part. Your grace, I think Cersei deserves a long, painful death. I say go in with your men, take her, and have all three dragons around just in case you have to burn it down to smoke her out."

Varys chimed in once more. "Yes, but Lady Olenna, you grievously lost your family. Your opinion, is, of course, marred by judgment focused on revenge."

"You're right, I did lose my family. And so, so many more will lose theirs if we try to war with giant armies," she said, sighing, and leaning over the table to look at everyone. "I have been around these people longer than any of you. The common people will follow whoever is going to feed them, but who also scares them. Say you want about Tywin Lannister and how cruel he could be with the Red Wedding, but he knew how to get it done. Killing Cersei is far from a Red Wedding, so stop trying to make it seem like it is."

Lana raised her chalice of water. "I concur. I came here to live in peace in this castle. Not sit and wonder how to most peacefully take Cersei off the throne."

"All I caution," Varys said. "Is that extreme actions have extreme consequences."

"Like plotting to have me killed when I was with Drogo?" Dany asked, her eyes and voice filled with ice.

Like the politician he was, Varys gave a good answer. "Precisely, your grace. If that had worked, we'd all be listening to Cersei right now."

"So, then what do you suggest, Lord Varys?" Lana asked, tired of this. "Let's hear your plan instead of squabble about in conversation."

"To gather more support. Squeeze Cersei slowly, not to chop her head off. The more support Daenerys has, the more likely that when she sits the throne, she stays on the Iron Throne."

"Once she sits on it, she won't go anywhere," Jorah defended.

"And how can you guarantee that?" Varys asked.

"She has three dragons, as you seem to keep forgetting."

"Tywin liked to sing the Reins of Castamere when trying to get someone to make a decision. It's not much different."

"I like you, Lord Varys," Tyrion said with an apologetic tone. "But referencing my father only strengthens Dany's claim to use her dragons. My father was ruthless, and yet, the people still followed him."

"I didn't realize we were all so fond of a man who had my nieces and nephews killed, then let their killer rape their mother with their blood on her hands," Dany scolded.

"I think, my queen," Jorah said, cooling the fire in her. "The point is Tywin was ruthless, brutal, and yet effective. And here we are, discussing him even in his death, mostly with respect-"

"With respect?" Dany asked, and Lana felt sorry for her sister.

"He ended a war, your grace. I don't think we should kill babes, but I also think that's where you are different. You wouldn't do those thing, but you should be able to kill others if needed. Tywin was too brutal to be loved, but he was feared."

Lady Olenna said, still standing, "And you can be both, my dear. But you have to be willing to be feared by the people that you also want to love you. It's the first trick in parenting."

Dany faintly smiled. "I appreciate your caution, Lord Varys, and I will remember it. But I need to be a dragon now. I want to work towards a plan to go take King's Landing, with everything that we have."

"As you command, your grace."

Everyone in the room began to rise.

"Daenerys," Jon said, interrupting the decisive feeling of the room. "I need to discuss the war with the dead as well. I would prefer everyone's counsel with it as well."

"Make it quick," Dany said with a sigh.

"The dead are coming. Iron Throne, or even a golden throne, it won't matter. If the North fails to stop the dead, then everyone will be dead come winter. And the North cannot stop the dead with the men that we have."

"Even after the dragonglass?" Dany asked, clearly impatient.

"It's like being one man facing a hundred. It is futile, but you're still going to sharpen your blade beforehand," Snow said. There was something about him that Lana liked, and yet also didn't like. She reminded herself that this was Arya's half-brother.

Lana smiled. They definitely seemed to share a sense of determination and self-assurance.

"Pardon, my lad," Lady Olenna said. "But what dead? I haven't seen anything."

Jon laughed. "They are north of the wall."

"So, what's the problem? I thought the wall was there for a reason."

All eyes moved to Jon Snow, many seemingly persuaded by Olenna's statement. "My brother Bran has seen them finding their way over."

"Assuming I know what that means why did we even bother building a wall? How can it even be taken down?" Olenna asked.

"These are questions for the Citadel, but none of them will take us seriously."

"I agree with Olenna," Tyrion said, tapping his hand on the table as if to wrap this up. His tone clearly showed that he took none of this seriously. "We need evidence, or it's just more theories. We can only fight the war that is in front of us and real."

"Maybe you can fetch one of these creatures, Jon Snow, and bring them here," Olenna said in jest.

Jon's face sobered as he slowly looked around the room, furrowing his brow as he spoke to the lady of flowers. "Would it make a difference?"

Dany chimed in, to which Jon's eyes moved to her. "If you presented me with a creature of the dead and told me they could break through the wall, it very well might make a difference. But since that cannot be done, it is still a moot point."

Jon snow bit his bottom lip. "So, if I gave you a wight, you would fly north, bring your armies, and help me fight them?"

Dany sighed, looking at the table before glancing back to him. "If you brought a wight, and it was real, and we had evidence they would breach the wall, no matter what...then I would take King's Landing, and the first act that I would do is gather every lord that doesn't want their castle burned, and I would demand the Citadel to come and see it too. Then we would fly north and help you fight this enemy."

Jon Snow sighed, like he had received a death sentence. "Looks like I have to secure one, then."

Dany tutted. "Surely, you don't mean that?"

"I have to go north and get one. We are going to die, your grace. The North needs every man. We need the Citadel. We need your dragonfire. And I understand why no one is listening to me. It is because no one has seen it. So, I need to find a way to allow people to see it."

"You know, if these creatures truly are real, then this could be used," Tyrion said, waving a finger. "What better thing to have everyone unite around, for our queen, other than the fight for the survival of Westeros? I say we call on all of great lords and the citadel and bring the wight to King's Landing. We show them what there is to rally behind. If we can give everyone in this kingdom a reason to head north and help fight, that will give Jon Snow the men he needs, and it will give our queen a reason to be followed with little allies."

"Except for the north," she said as she glared at Jon. "He still has yet to kneel, and I am supposed to trust that when he returns, he won't rally everyone behind him instead?"

Jon Snow didn't budge.

"We can worry about that later," Tyrion said, nearly rolling his eyes as he looked to Dany before glancing back to Snow. "Jon, how feasible is this feat? To go north and secure a potential walking dead person?"

Jon laughed, his smile bright and clean, but his mood was sour. "I don't know. I've never tried it. I am used to running away from them, not bloody catching them and carrying them south."

"How long would you need?" Dany asked tersely, clearly still not in favor of Snow.

"A month, if I leave now. Maybe two."

"Then we will wait for three months before attacking King's Landing, at least if we can afford to wait that long. Don't forget, that if you plan to betray me, I will not lend you a single soldier, let alone any dragons."

Jon straightened his back, a crook of a smile on his face. "Trust me, you want the throne more than I ever could."

The conversation concluded shortly after the debate. Jon Snow was going North beyond the wall, and would come back with the enemy that was fueled by dark magic. Surprisingly, Jorah volunteered his aid and to represent the queen.

Lana didn't know how to process any of it, in truth. She had grown up hearing about the 'Night'. It always sounded like something to be avoided at all costs.

I wonder where Thoros is, and if he still has Lightbringer. Lana had a feeling, based on all the stories Sedona had told her, that no matter the size of the army, it came down to Lightbringer.

They had all agreed to withhold the taking of King's Landing, waiting until they had a Wight to present, so Dany could campaign on the fight for the world and not just the throne. Tyrion said he would go and find a way to talk to Jamie in an attempt to coax Cersei out into the open.

When Lana got back to her new room, which overlooked the gardens, she changed into her nightdress, with furs to go over it as she sat down with a glass of wine while her handmaid added logs to the fire.

Lana ruminated over everything that had been discussed. They were getting closer to death or victory now. Even then, she mostly thought of her and Sandor. Lana realized his time by her side was growing nearer too.

They both knew he couldn't be here when she was married off, which grew ever closer now.

As Lana's handmaiden began to part for the evening, Lana said, "Tell Sandor to come in."

The woman nodded, opened the door, and in walked Clegane.

Sandor walked in, still clad in his new armor, although it wasn't the Valerian, which he would soon have. Ser Jorah and Ser Barriston were getting their own as well, along with metal pieces to adorn Dany and Lana in.

"Have some wine," she said, motioning to the flagon. The breeze was cold tonight, winter more apparent than ever.

An ominous sign, considering the dark words that Jon Snow brought.

"Won't say no to that," Clegane said, taking a seat, the sound of his giant armor settling in his chair flashing all kinds of memories in her mind from their journeys.

She was about to ask him a question and wondered if she should use his first name. He was very responsive to it, and so far, he hadn't told her not to. She just never heard anyone else use it. She still didn't feel quite right using just his first name, and yet she didn't like calling him Clegane. She settled on both. "What do you want, Sandor Clegane? I know you want more than to grow old as a guard."

He drank his wine, leaned back and said, "You know I don't talk about this shit."

"If this war with the white walkers is real, I don't want you stuck here when you want to be elsewhere."

"So, I save your life, and now you want me gone?"

"No, I don't, actually. I just...I won't make it long. Did a lot of thinking. Coming close to death does that to you, no matter how many times it happens. It made me realize that you almost got away from all of this, and stayed away, in that village with Ray. You chose to stay for a reason. I want to make sure that when you desire to return to that, you can, versus just stay here with me on this island."

He was silent, and his face wasn't angry. He was really considering her words.

"Might go serve the brotherhood," he finally said with a calm tone.

"What?" she asked, doing poorly to hide her displeasure.

"You asked what I wanted," he chided, then drank more wine.

"As in, soon? They'd be far north by now."

He nodded, not looking at her. "Might go with the northern bastard to help with whatever is north of the wall. Bet the Brotherhood is heading for whatever is up there. Thoros always yammered on about it. Might stay with them when we return."

Her heart sank. "What? Are you serious?"

He looked her dead in the eye. "You are right. I don't want to serve for forever. It's in my nature to protect, but my years of service are behind me. Aye, I stayed in that village for a reason. I wanted to be my own man. And now, I want to help with whatever the fuck is coming. This is bigger than all of us. I don't want to sit around like a twat, drinking wine next to a fire, while other men die for this world."

"What about me?"

"You have a sister with three dragons," he said and looked away.

"What if I don't want you to go away? At least not yet."

"You asked what I wanted," he scolded, his eyes hard and cold, but the longer their eyes connected, the more he relented in his fervor. For a few, long moments, they just stared, and she started to see a semblance of concern, and even care, in his eyes. As much as he could give, anyway. Then he looked ahead once more and said, "I can't stay here forever. I got you safely here, and now it's time for me to go. The sooner I leave, the better for both of us."

Well this blew up in my face. Although Lana knew it was the right thing. His time was done being a glorified bodyguard.

And yet, hearing him confirm that decision really brought her spirits down. Without him, this would become a very dull life. She relied on him to keep things normal, and she looked forward to being near him every day, always a buzz of nerves rife in her belly. She had expected him to take some time to consider this decision, not make a sweeping one this quickly.

Why couldn't he be like Jorah and stay around no matter what?

But as soon as she wondered that, she knew she didn't want that. It's what Lana liked about Sandor. He was his own man, and he'd do what he wanted.

She looked to his hand that lied on the table, large and threatening, like that of a hardy man. She breathed quicker, her nerves on edge as she got the idea.

Jon Snow was leaving in the morning. She might as well try for it.

Lana placed her hand on his, and it was warm and robust. He glared at her while she stared at the hand that was in hers, and she could see in her peripheral that his glare was a warning. And yet, he didn't remove his hand.

She eventually looked up, meeting his brown eyes, and she could nearly hear his voice in her head asking 'what the fuck are you doing?'

Her gaze was just as unwavering.

"If you must go, I won't stop you," she said, trying her best to relay her emotions in her eyes.

His chest rose and fell as he took in a long draw of air, his gaze unrelenting. She looked back down to his hand. It was well-used with scars and clearly strong. There was something to a man's hands that really struck Lana, and she imagined that it was the same thing men had for the softness of a woman's skin or the smell of her hair.

Clegane's arms and hands had always drawn her in, wondering what it would be like to be encased in them, or held down.

She sighed and went to pull away, feeling her carnal need for that kind of affection starting to take over her mind.

As she pulled, his hand clasped hers, and her heart hammered in her chest almost instantly. His grip was firm, and yet she could tell that he was barely holding on. She looked up but saw he was looking at her hand now. They were even rougher on his palm side.

She imagined that he wanted to grab her, lift her skirts, and take her right then and there on the table. By the look in his eye, he was indeed struggling to control himself.

She breathed deeper, as she desperately wanted that.

His grip tightened, just ever so, and it was enough to send a pleasant chill slithering through her veins Gods did she want him to grip her with those hands, to hold her still while he filled her with every inch of him.

The thought of Clegane leaving Lana along in these giant halls with maids, servants, and soldiers just felt so wrong.

She couldn't let him leave without being close to him. She had to give him a reason to come back.

She rose from her seat and walked around the table, and he let go of her hand, his breathing growing heavier. He had that look in his eye when he was about to fuck someone up, but this was laced with desire, not murder.

As soon as she was within his reach, he sat up from his slouch, grabbed her, and pulled her into his lap. She gave in, letting him control her with a grip that locked her to him. She neared his face, pressing her lips on his, the light scruff scratching her chin and cheeks, her nose pressed into his skin as they kissed. His breath was hot. His hands pressed so hard into her skin that he was nearly pulling at it when he glided them over her.

He reached under her skirt, his rough hand grazing her bare thigh as it ran up her outer leg. She moaned into the kiss, and he growled in return, gripping the outside of her thigh hard. He was feeling her all over, kissing her, keeping her in his arms all to himself. She wasn't leaving his grip until he let her go, and that power exchange revved something deep and primal in Lana.

She placed a hand in his hair, gripping it, and his hand rose higher, cupping her ass, sliding his hand over her leg so it was on top of her thigh.

Their breathing grew more intense, along with their touches, which pulled against one another. Their kiss intensified, their tongues now brushing against one another and the other's lips. She wanted him. She wanted him all over her, and inside of her. She wanted to watch him fuck her and see that pleasure on his face.

Eventually she was able to reposition herself, his hold on her giving way when he realized what she was doing. She placed a leg on either side of him, straddling him. He groaned hard into her mouth, both of his hands running up her thighs, gripping her ass once more.

Their motions were reckless now, crossing from touching and kissing, to exploring what came next.

One of his hands slid down her rear and onto the back of her thigh, regripping to the inside of her thigh. He nearly grazed the area that she desperately wanted him to touch. She leaned into his touch, begging him to touch her further.

Everything changed in him. She thought he had growled before, but this time the sound that escaped him was more guttural as he stroked her between her thighs, feeling the mess that he created. His other hand gripped the back of her neck as he pulled her tight into a kiss while he reached a finger inside of her. She clenched tight, never having felt another man inside of her, even in that regard

She grinned into the kiss and relaxed her muscles, wanting more of him. "Just fuck me already," she said into the kiss.

He chuckled darkly, and just as he pulled his finger out of her to grip her hips and pick her up, a knock came to the door. Fuck.

They paused, parted their kiss and panted, noses nearly touching the other. She looked Sandor Clegane in the eyes, which were full of an unleashed hunger and emotion. Then the knock came again, and he rolled his eyes.

"It is Lord Varys, my lady. Your sister has sent me to request you, in lieu of the Maester," the voice said through the door. Sure enough, it sounded just like him.

Clegane rose from his seat, Lana still in his arms, and he placed her down with a gentleness that she had been desperate to see him from him. He couldn't leave, not when she just finally got a glimpse at what she wanted.

She pinched the bridge of her nose. "One moment," she said, dropping her hand to straighten her robes. Clegane finished his cup of wine and slammed it on the table.

"Might as well take the rest and enjoy it," Lana said.

"Won't enjoy shit except for sore balls," he said severely. He looked her over, his eyes angry and full of hunger, his lip lightly sneering as he looked away.

She felt the same way. "It's not my choice. Trust me, I'd rather you fuck me right now."

Clegane huffed. "Don't say that shit. It just makes this worse," he said with a groan and went for the door, opening it, to which the Varys jumped and said with curious eyes, "Well, am I interrupting something?"

"Get the fuck out of my way," Clegane threatened, and like that, he was gone.

"Well, Lady Lana," Varys said. "I take it you know that harboring soldiers in your quarters, at this hour, does not give the best impression?"

Lana had no reply to that, knowing it didn't matter what she said.

"Some advice?" Varys asked. "Your hair is tossed, and yet your bed is made. Either ruffle the bed to make it appear you woke up or straighten your hair, otherwise we can only assume it was from the grumpy soldier in here just moments ago. Although, I supposed an unruffled bed is a good thing. Most lords in these lands won't want to marry the dragon that was soiled by the hound."

This time, Lana huffed herself, her nerves frayed, but no retort came. She liked the sound of the hound soiling the dragon, her mind unable to let go of him.

In a way, he had soiled her. If she had never met Clegane, she wouldn't be questioning anything right now.

The next morning, Lana got word that more men had volunteered to join Jon Snow, and that they were leaving the following day. Of course, the one man she cared about had volunteered as well. After Lana dressed, she opened her door and saw Clegane wasn't there.

His absence meant more than anything, hitting her square in the chest that he was no longer in her services.

She spent the better half of her morning searching for him, finding him in the halls.

"You really are going north, beyond the wall. With Snow and the others," she said as she approached him, her voice lightly quivering.

"Aye," he said with a curt nod, not bothering to stop as he continued to walk through the halls.

She stood in front of him and he stopped, not sure what took over her. "You are supposed to stay here and protect me," she said, not sore that she lost him as a guard, but it was the first excuse she came up with.

His tone was back to the usual condescending one. "Someone will always be around to protect you," he said with little care.

"I want you to protect me," she said, realizing that even with him leaving, she still couldn't find the gall to say the words.

Those words, however, were enough for now and seemed to mean something to him, and before he looked away, she caught a glimpse of raw emotion in those guarded eyes.

She took a step closer, pressing that matter further. "I need you here. You saved me from the attack. Did you forget that already? I'd be dead without you. It could happen again."

"That was a freak occurrence. You know I can't stay, Lana," he said, not looking at her, gently pushing her aside.

He was seemingly doing everything he could to avoid her, but she grabbed his arm. His body went rigid, and the danger of Sandor Clegane was apparent, but the way his muscles relaxed when he looked down to her told her everything she needed to know. He wanted to leave, and she was making this difficult. Let alone how close they had gotten the previous night. "What if you don't come back?" she asked, her voice quiet.

"Then you'll find a husband and be the Lady of Dragonstone. It's what's going to happen anyway. And I don't want to be around for that shit. I am not living my fucking life leaving a room when the spider knocks. If I want to fuck a woman, then I am going to fuck her. Not with you, though. And we can't change that," he said, his brown eyes hard and clearly trying to hold back whatever bubbled underneath.

"If I am a true lady, then I'll do whatever I want to do," she said, letting go of him.

He scoffed. He gave her one last look that had more care than hate in it, blinking slowly. "Not when it comes to marriage and alliances. It's the whole damned point to you being here."

He turned around before she could say anything. She lost the battle with him. She watched him walk away, terrified of what was going to happen to him, to Westeros, to everything.

It wasn't until she saw the ships sail away that she felt the full force of what that meant. Sandor was no longer in the castle, and the further that ship sailed, the further away he was. If she ever saw him again, it would be weeks, if not months.

She walked out in the gardens as her chest felt numb, noticing a few flakes of snow as she walked among the pines and cranberry bushes.

The group of grizzled, experienced men walked the lands that lied north of the wall, the air so cold it turned one's mouth dry. They all wore thick layers of wildling clothes, topped with fur to keep the wind out and catch the snow. All Clegane could see was nothing but cold, white, and rocky, snow-capped mountains. He couldn't believe people actually fucking lived up here.

Clegane was walking ahead, trying to get away from Tormund after their conversation, but the crazy fucker kept following him.

"So how did you and Brienne meet?" the ginger asked. He was a fervent man. "I want to know everything about my beauty before I return, so I may impress her with tales of her might."

"Sure, that'll fucking work," Clegane said.

Tormund sniggered. "What is life without a woman to return to? It makes all this miserable shit worth it."

"You're more like the Westerosi than you admit."

"Do you have a lady, Clegane?" Tormund asked.

"When do you shut up?" Clegane retorted, looking at him. Tormund's nose was red, his beard and hair speckled with snow, and his lips cracked.

"We have all the time in the world to talk. And this might be one of our last conversations," Tormund said with hard eyes.

Thoros turned around, with his stupid top knot, and said, "He has a woman. A blonde, like yours."

"He does?" Tormund asked with wide eyes.

"Aye. Lana-"

"Shut the fuck up," Clegane warned.

"Secret is safe with me, Clegane," Tormund said. "Go on, profess it. Probably all going to die anyway, so what does it matter?"

"His lady is Lana, sister to the dragon queen," Thoros said.

Tormund nodded with approval, a gust of frigid air prompting them all to tuck their clothes closer to their body. "Shooting, high, eh, Clegane? Guess I am too, in a different way, with my beautiful giant," Tormund said.

Clegane couldn't tell if he should smack Tormund in the face or not. Maybe that was the only way to silence the ginger. "She will never be with the likes of me. Which is why I am out here, in these barren ass lands with a ginger like you. I don't want to talk 'bout her. About any of it. So, shut up. It's my fucking business."

"Maybe she can make him nicer," Tormund said, and Clegane nearly looked at him like a septa eyeing an unruly lady.

Thoros replied, "I think we have better luck with these lands turning green."

Finally, they all shut up for an hour or so, giving him peace. Although the lands made it hard, the snow crunching underfoot, which was sometimes just chunks of ice. The scenery, if he weren't so damned cold, might have been lovely. The rays were golden, and the reflection on the snow was black and blue.

He tried to keep Lana from his mind, but that was nearly impossible. He kept remembering the softness of her thighs, how wet he had made her, and how much she had wanted him. Gods he had never wanted to fuck a woman so much in his life.

And even though he couldn't stop thinking about how tight she had been, and how he wanted to be the one to take her, it was the way she didn't want him to leave got him the most. Where most women grew tired of his insolence, Lana seemed to give two shits about it, and it was in that that he found his heart aching for her.

He nearly went to finish the job that night, be he remembered her maidenhead. It wouldn't be right to take that before he left. Whatever lord she married would want it, and Sandor didn't want to hurt any potential she had of moving on. He knew that lot far better than she did, and those lords obsessed over virginity like a drunk over wine.

Sometimes, he hated that he cared. He wanted to fuck her bloody, and then fuck her again. But no, he had to go about with caring and shit.

Perhaps it was for the best Varys interrupted them, reminding Clegane that chasing after Lana would be nothing but misery for him in the end.

"So, what is a crow doing with a raven?" Tormund asked Jon, and Clegane eyed the little black bird on Jon's shoulder. "And why's it got three eyes?"

"It's my brother's raven. If we need it, we will send it to Dany for her dragons," Jon Snow said, his black curls striking against the white landscape.

"Why didn't she just come with us? Would have saved a lot of time," Tormund said.

"She's got a war to fight. If she comes here, it will only be because we need her."

"Why not just send it anyway? I'd like to ride a dragon back to the wall."

"We can't demand dragon rides for comfort. Not when she is so far south and is relying on me to do this alone. She is only our last resort."

Tormund turned back to Clegane. "Maybe your lady could fly with her," he said, smiling that cheesy fucking grin.

"They better not. She has no business in these lands," Clegane warned.

"These lands are my home," Tormund said with slight offense.

"Lana is a dragon, not a bloody polar bear," Clegane retorted, and somehow, the mad fucker just ended up laughing, and nodding with approval.

"I have got some stories about bears," Tormund said.

Clegane sighed, just not fucking winning with this one. "Bet you do."

"You want to hear any?"

"I may just have to rip your tongue out if you do."

Tormund recoiled and shook his head. "I'll fight you for it. It's very useful for with the women."

Clegane couldn't hold back and laughed. "Coming from the man that likes dick."

Tormund laughed, and his eyes showed great approval for Clegane.

Seriously, what the fuck was with the end of the world and Sandor suddenly making friends in every corner? Why did people like him now? Or did all the average, honorable men die, and all that was left were the mad fuckers?

The day quickly grew dark, and before they knew it, the temperature completely dropped. The moon and stars gave light, reflecting on the snow while even their bones couldn't stay warm.

They sat close together, and of course, Tormund sat next to Clegane.

As he shivered, from time to time, and closed his eyes, trying to fall asleep with his beard keeping his face warm, he thought of Lana.

He hoped she was safe, and that if he didn't make it out of this, she'd find someone that would make her happy. On most days, he wanted her more than he wanted to kill Gregor. But he knew it was something that would lead to nothing, and indulging would only make it so much worse.

A/N: Please feel free to let me know if you are enjoying it! It means so much to me! Thanks so much to those that left reviews!